


baby steps

by Nochi



Series: It Wasn't My Idea [4]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: 707 Route Spoilers, F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Post-Game, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 04:48:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16758238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nochi/pseuds/Nochi
Summary: "You're drunk." It's not accusatory. It's just a statement of fact.





	baby steps

It's late. It's really late, even later than Saeyoung usually goes to bed, and he doesn't go to bed until he's completely exhausted. So he's drifting in and out of sleep when the door finally opens, and his head jerks up from where it had been drooping onto his chest.

"You're home," he says blearily. She stops, looks at him, blinking in the low light from the kitchen.

"Saeyoung," she mumbles unsteadily. His blood freezes at the way the syllables slur together; he tries to ignore it. "You didn't have to wait up. Told you I'd be late."

"I was worried," he says softly. "Come here."

The way she walks towards him makes his whole body tense up. Even worse is the smell as she approaches - astringent and bitter.

"You're drunk." It's not accusatory. It's just a statement of fact.

She stops in her tracks, looking up at him. "Maybe a little."

"I can smell it from here." He's not mad, precisely, though that’s how he sounds even to his own ears. It’s more frantic, mania in the face of terror. "You didn't tell me you'd be drinking."

"It was just a few," she protests, wobbling as she takes her shoes off. "It's been a while since I had any so it hit me a little harder than I thought it would. That's all."

He steps back, away from her. He can't take the smell. "You know I don't like drinking."

"Your preferences don't dictate my life, Saeyoung." It's a sharp rebuke, and part of him knows she's right. The rest of him, unfortunately, is drowning in powerful memories, the scent of alcohol and his name slurred, spit out like an oath rather than a name given to a child.

"Drink some water," he says. "Go to bed. I'm sleeping out here."

"Saeyoung," and she's hurt now, and confused, and part of that fights past the drowning so that he stops. He can't look at her still, his heart is still beating too fast for that, his breathing a little too shallow.

"It's not...I'm not..." He sighs, a deep breath in through his nose. (This brings a fresh round of alcohol scent in, and he fights another wave of fear, crashing over his head and through his veins like hot and cold at the same time.) "You smell like my mother," is all he can get out, and hears a sharp little intake of breath in return.

"Fuck." He chances a look and she's got her hands over her face. "Shit, I thought - maybe it wouldn't be - I'm sorry, I should have stayed at Minah's house." She flaps a hand at him. "Go ahead. Lay down. I'll take a shower. Brush my teeth. I'm so sorry, Saeyoung. I didn't mean - "

He swallows hard, steps towards her. His chest feels tight and he can hear his heartbeat in his ears. You're not there, he tells himself, repeating it like a prayer. _You're not there, you're here. You're a grown man and she doesn't even know where you are. This isn't_ her. _It isn't the same._

Carefully, as though he might break her (or himself), he wraps his arms around her. Pulls her to him, briefly. He's holding his breath and his eyes are squeezed shut, but he embraces her for as long as he can before he has to let go and step away.

"I'm not mad. I'm just...I'm sorry, okay? I'm not mad."

"Saeyoung..." His eyes are still tightly shut, but he hears her step away from him, towards their bedroom and, presumably, the attached bathroom. "I'm sorry. I'll get cleaned up."

"Drink water," he calls after her retreating footsteps. It takes two, three deep breaths before he can calm down. Luckily her perfume is the only scent clinging to him, and he doesn't mind that one so much.

He flops onto the sofa, glasses dangling loosely from one hand, the other arm thrown over his eyes. _How long has it been since I left?_ he thinks forlornly. _How long will it be before I realize I'm gone? How do I_ make _myself realize I'm gone?_

When she wakes up the next morning, she's confused at the empty space on the other side of the bed. Then the previous night rushes back into her memory and she buries her face in the pillow. _He's probably still hiding from me,_ she thinks bitterly. _I knew about his mom. I'm an idiot. Where's my phone?_ She reaches for it blindly, feeling her way across the nightstand. Her hand hits a piece of paper first, that she knows wasn't there before, and she pulls her face out of the pillow to investigate. There's a bottle of aspirin and a glass of water on the nightstand, and now that she's not smothering herself she can smell coffee. The paper was a note, and she sits up to read it, rubbing sleep out of her eyes.

It's got her name on the front, surrounded by little hearts, which makes her laugh fondly. The inside just says, simply, _Baby steps._

She nods, holding the letter to her chest for a second, admiring in the privacy of the empty bedroom how strong Saeyoung is, even - especially - when he doesn't believe it of himself.

"Oy." He sticks his head around the edge of the door, and she looks up, startled. "Coffee's gonna get cold." He's not entering, she notices, and he's trying to discreetly test the air of the room, to see if it still smells of alcohol.

"How'd you know I was awake?"

"God Seven sees all. Come on, I made bacon." He disappears behind the door again, and she just laughs, slipping out of bed to follow him.

Baby steps. 


End file.
